


To Create

by LunasWufei



Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [31]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunasWufei/pseuds/LunasWufei
Summary: Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Harry Potter.I was eating Wendy’s when I had this idea, and well… it has nothing to do with what I was eating. I just felt I should mention when I got the idea. *Shrugs.* A lot of breaks, probably, and more than likely some continuity errors and the like. No Horcruxes this time around, cause I don’t feel like it. Either way, here is the next one, as always liberties are taken.
Series: Snippets and Fix-Its [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556170
Comments: 13
Kudos: 149





	To Create

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Harry Potter. 
> 
> I was eating Wendy’s when I had this idea, and well… it has nothing to do with what I was eating. I just felt I should mention when I got the idea. *Shrugs.* A lot of breaks, probably, and more than likely some continuity errors and the like. No Horcruxes this time around, cause I don’t feel like it. Either way, here is the next one, as always liberties are taken.

White, divine eyes looked over the world known as ‘Earth’. They were part of the face of the king of the Gods: Zeus, and he was contemplating something. He wondered if the mortals could use some divine intervention, they were being… petty and stupid. He was about to bring this question to Hades, the brother he had recently reconciled with, when he twitched and frowned. His son, Hephaestus, had just died again. His son had a tendency to visit mortals in other worlds, planes of existence, and always waited to be reborn. 

  
  


He closed his eyes and stood, stretching and connecting his thoughts with that of his son, frowning. Again with the medieval weaponry and armor? Could his son build nothing else? He blinked and then smirked softly, nodding to himself and then made his way to what he called his ‘viewing portal.’ 

  
  


“Husband.” Came a slightly agitated voice from his side, belonging to his wife, Hera. “What are you doing?” She said, as he waved off her question, causing her to sigh. “Are you going to interfere with the mortal world, again?” She asked, narrowing her eyes again. 

“Kind of, yes.” Zeus said, not really finding a reason to lie to his eternal wife. “I think it will be a good opportunity for my boy as well.” He said flexing his fingers softly, Hera coming over to him. 

  
  


“What are you going to do?” Hera almost hissed, before he snorted. 

  
  


“Oh, don’t worry! Everything will be fine!” The King of the Gods said, before he constructed a lightning bolt, infusing it with his divine essence and the soul of his son. Before Hera could stop him, he hurled the lightning bolt, smiling as he did so, and when he saw the flash he grinned. “HA! Right on target… I've still  _ got it! _ ” He said, and she groaned, her Husband was… bothersome. Yes, that was a good word.

  
~TC~

  
  


There was one person who saw the lightning bolt strike, and only one. Unfortunately for him, however, it did nothing to aid him. As the bolt of green energy that was the killing curse was about to hit young Harry Potter, the divine intervention of a bolt of lightning from Zeus fundamentally altered the event. The killing curse, powerful in the mortal realm, was nothing but a gnat to the radiance that was the divine bolt, and it was reflected instantly. 

  
  


“Bollocks…” Was the last thing uttered by one self styled ‘lord’ Voldemort, before his body, and soul, was torn asunder by his rebounded curse. Little Harry Potter was knocked onto his rump from the backlash, bursting into tears from the sudden jostle and pain that went through him from it all. The lightning bolt that had struck him left him with a scar, magical in nature, and scattered like a bolt would in the sky. It would stay with him forever, and have untold implications for his life. 

  
~TC~

  
  


The power within Harry, the essence of the legendary god of all smithing, did not manifest until he was four years old. He had been told to start cooking breakfast, he was old enough now to reach, but he had been left with a rather faulty range to work with. For the first time in his young life, where he could understand it, he saw something was broken and he had the urge… no the  _ need _ to fix it. So, fix it he did. He did not notice his aunt coming in behind him, about to berate him for taking so long, and pausing at him with the range top lifted, and him poking his head inside to fix the broken innards. 

  
  


He closed it, wiping his hands on his three sizes too large pants, and turned it on. It did not do the annoying half a dozen ‘clicks’ before it turned on… it just came to life. Harry smiled at his work, and tested everything, before nodding and starting to cook. Petunia blinked as he took the large skillet, whose handle was cracked, and a bit of work from his hands had that repaired as well. Petunia twitched, glaring softly before huffing and leaving, more of the world that had taken her sister from her. 

  
  


“BOY!” Came the bellow from Vernon Dursley, and then the man came into the kitchen, fury etched on his face. He was about to grasp the boy, but saw that he had a hot pan in his hand, filled with equally hot oil. “What did you do to the range?” He snarled out, Harry shivering softly in fear, responding softly. 

  
  


“I fixed it… Uncle Vernon.” Harry said, and moved aside when his uncle came over. The larger male checked it over, looking at everything that had been broken, before he huffed. 

“I like my bacon crispy, boy.” He said, before going off with a grumble. He wanted to be angry, but it that repair would have cost a few hundred quid, or a brand new range. If it broke, then he would be angry, oh yes he would. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Vernon watched as his son went around with a brand new toy, one he had seen on the tele the week before, but Vernon had not enough money to get it after paying for the mortgage on the house. 

  
  


“Son?” Vernon asked, causing said boy to stop and look at his father. “Where did you get that toy?” He said, and Dudley grinned widely. 

  
  


“Harry gave it to me. He said he made it!” Dudley said, and Vernon frowned softly. Made it? “He used some of my broken toys… he said he could make them better, but I told him I wanted this one and he made it!” The excited boy said, before going back to playing. Vernon started to think, was the boy even doing it consciously? He had never been told of his freak powers, did he remember them from his parents when they were alive? He’d have to watch the boy, even closer now. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Petunia and Vernon looked at the ring on the kitchen table, the ring they had found Harry working on. They sent him to his cupboard, the threat of no meals on their tongue before they realized that it was whole. It had been Vernon’s mother’s ring, used as an engagement ring for Petunia, and it had been nearly shattered. It had slipped from Petunia’s fingers years ago, and was nearly destroyed by a passing lawnmower one morning, and here it was… whole again. 

  
  


“He didn’t even know what it was, Pet.” Vernon started, after about five minutes of just fixing the ring. “And you saw what he did to the Tele.” He said, bringing up the fact that there was a practically brand new television in the living room. Harry had been left alone that day, told not to touch anything he wasn’t supposed to, while the Dursley’s went on a little day trip. He didn’t know he was not supposed to touch the jewelry box, or the tele, he was just allowed to watch. 

  
  


“He still used his freakishness, Vernon.” Petunia said, huffing slightly. “We said we’d stamp that out of him, and here you ar-” She was interrupted, as he had been only partially listening to her. 

  
  


“I’m giving him Dudley’s second bedroom.” Vernon declared, and she blinked in shock and awe at him. “It would give him more space, and imagine what he could do with that. He’s made more toys for our son, and well… maybe it’s not so bad.” He said, looking at the ring again, it was marvelous. The stove, almost three months later, was still good as new, even better than. Dudley had fallen on his toy, taking a wrong turn into his room, and it did not break under the boy’s weight. 

  
  


“You’re making a mistake, Vernon.” Petunia said, getting up and leaving with a huff. Vernon got up and opened the cupboard, letting the young child out, and leading him to the den to have a sit down. There would be some changes in the household, and they would start that day. 

  
~TC~

  
  
  


Petunia looked at the dress in her hands, tears lightly sparkling her eyes. It was a floral dress, made of a combination of cotton and silk, made for her birthday by her nephew. It was patterned with lilies and petunias, their stems interlocked in bouquets all around the body of the dress. She sniffled softly and stroked the fabric, he had made this for her. He hadn’t expected anything in return, he didn’t even ask if she wanted anything. He just… made it for her. 

  
  


She was sitting in her room, after having opened a box that had been seated on her bed, a small note in his young, scrawled script that simply said: Happy Birthday, Aunty. She wiped a tear from her eye, sniffing again, before smiling. It wasn’t his fault her Lily died, he had been barely a year old. No, it was that… that madman. He wasn’t a freak, he just had a gift. Petunia could see that now, and that thought… that belief, made the magic protecting the family explode in a momentary bit of radiance in the afternoon sun. It was gone as soon as it arrived, but the wards were now, quite literally, the ultimate (Mortal) magical protection. 

  
~TC~

  
  


The Dursley adults, when Harry was almost nine, told him of his heritage. He knew he had a gift, but he didn’t think it was magic. He thought it was just skill, but he was pleased with this, oh yes. It not only gave him knowledge of where his gift came from, but it would give him a whole new world of materials and the like. Vernon and Petunia never bought anything in terms of furniture and the like anymore, instead they bought the raw materials and Harry built things. That was not to say they were abusing his gift, he offered it, he loved it. He loved working with his hands, and he even wished for his things to be sold so he could have money for more materials. 

He went to school, of course, but most of his free time was spent creating, repairing, overall enjoying what he believed magic had gifted him. When the letter for Hogwarts arrived, he was already prepared, and pleased as well. There had been a perch waiting for the owl, and it hooted and waited while the young child looked over the letter. He hastily wrote out his acceptance, it was a builders scrawl so it was barely legible, and sent it off after treating the owl to some meat. He then went back to his work, making a new chair for his uncle, who had lost weight over the years. It was a special gift for the man, and while he still had some body to him, he was by no means ‘fat’, as he had been. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Diagon Alley. Petunia had visited it once before… and only once. She remembered where it was, she always would, but before now she had not been prepared to return. She had to now, as that was the only way Harry would get his things for Hogwarts. They walked through the Leaky Cauldron, and with the help of Tom the innkeeper, made their way into the alley properly. Harry and Dudley gasped in awe, and their eyes lit up brightly. Dudley had been told by his mother that magic would never be part of his life like it would Harry’s, and though he had been upset, he understood. He just had Harry promise to show him what he could once they were together again. 

  
  


While they would never be like brothers in closeness, they were cousins and got along rather well. They walked with Petunia towards the white marbled building that was Gringotts bank, their first stop for the day to change money and perhaps open an account for Harry there. They entered the bank, Harry grinning softly at the statement on the marble, nodding to himself as he read it. It was a good warning, for those savvy enough to understand it. They waited in line and when they got to the teller, after a yelled ‘next!’, Petunia spoke. 

  
  


“Mr. Goblin.” Petunia started, getting a raised brow from the being in front of her. “My name is Petunia Dursley, and I have my nephew here. I would like to exchange some money for your currency, so we can get his things.” She said, and the Goblin looked at the two young boys, and this his eyes latched onto the scar etched onto his forehead. 

  
  


“I see.” The goblin said, before speaking a bit in his language to another, idle goblin. “Please follow Goldfarb, an account manager will speak with you, Mrs. Dursley.” He said, and before she could respond he called out ‘next!’, while they were instructed to follow. Petunia held in a huff of irritation, she had been told by her sister that goblins were ornery on the best of days, so this was normal. 

  
  


They followed the goblin until they got to a door, and they were let in. Petunia reading ‘Account manager Ironclencher’, before they entered the office. They were told to sit, and then the goblin that lead them there left, another entering a few minutes after, sitting in the size appropriate chair and looking at the three humans in front of him. 

  
  


“What?” The goblin asked, and Petunia huffed, before she spoke, not about to let this little man snap at her. 

  
  


“I am here to open an account for my nephew, Harry Potter. He needs money for his school things.” Petunia said, and the goblin looked at Harry, who was looking around fascinated, along with Dudley. 

  
  


“Mr. Potter already has an account, it was left to him by his parents.” Ironclencher said, sneering softly. “He would need his key for it.” He said, and Petunia blinked. 

  
  


“I was never told any of this, and do not give me any shite about it not being your problem.” Petunia started, glaring at the goblin. “I may not be magical, but I know how banks should work, and you are being uncommonly rude to a potential new client, and one who seems to already have an account here.” She said, tired of the rudeness here, this was supposed to be a business, different worlds be damned. 

  
  


“Hmm… you do have the fire of your sister, Petunia Evans.” The goblin said, and her brow raised, though she still had a glare set in her eyes. “We shall get him a key, and set up an adjoining account for you. Barclays is our… muggle front.” He said with a grin, and she snorted, nodding softly. They then started talking business, and were given galleons in place of the muggle money she had brought. Harry reached for a gold galleon and hummed, looking over it with a small frown. 

  
  


“Why is this only fifty percent gold, account manager?” Harry asked, and the goblin looked at him with a slightly surprised look. “The other half is… silver if I am not mistaken.” He said, picking up a sickle. “This is half silver half bronze…” He said, muttering more to himself, and then picked up a knut. “And this is almost completely copper.” He said, looking up at the now completely surprised goblin. 

  
  


“You have an eye for metals, Mr. Potter?” Ironclencher asked, and Harry nodded softly. “Interesting… what of this?” He asked, taking out a sheathed blade and passing it over to the young wizard, who unsheathed it just a bit to inspect the metal of the blade. 

  
  


“Silver… mixed with something else, something I haven’t seen yet.” Harry said, looking closer. “And it has… runes on it. I know a bit about this, mostly from history and stuff.” He said, and the goblin laughed softly, it was not a pleasant sound. 

  
  


“A young metal-smith, that is marvelous.” Ironclencher said, before taking the blade back. “It is Silver mixed with goblin forged mithril, Mr. Potter.” He said, and Harry perked up. 

  
  


“Can I buy some?” Harry asked enthusiastically, and the goblin blinked again. “Maybe I can make some nice jewelry, or something.” He said, and before the goblin could respond Petunia showed him the necklace she had been wearing. Ironclencher took it and looked it over, critical eyes searching the neck-wear, until he found what he was looking for. It had been well made, and infused with magic, that he could tell. Ah! Yes… the initials of the creator, etched with magic. ‘ _H.J.P_.’, and he could feel the similarity with the boy sitting across from him. 

  
  


“He made that when he was nine, account manager.” Petunia said, getting a snapped stare from the goblin. “He made this dress when he was seven.” She said, gesturing to her dress, her  _ favorite _ dress. 

  
  


“A crafting genius?” The goblin said, whispering softly, looking at the boy who was working with the three pieces of currency he had picked up. Said boy looked up and put a piece of work on the table, Ironclencher picking it up and letting out another short laugh. It was a very miniature goblin, and it was solid and it seemed unbreakable. 

  
  


“Yes… Mr. Potter, I do believe we can come to some sort of… deal.” Ironclencher said, grinning a wide, almost sinister grin. Harry returned the smile with one of his own, and Petunia had second thoughts all of a sudden. 

  
  
~TC~

  
  


Petunia shouldn’t have been worried, she would tell herself later, as the goblins were not about to take advantage of a child. Adult wizards and witches, sure, but this was a child raised outside of that world, there would be no need to swindle him. Besides, he seemed eager to treat the goblins with respect and make blueprints and the like for anything that was particularly fascinating to them. They even went so far as to negotiate a property for Harry, for when he was older they said, so that he could make the shop he wished to do. He would create all manner of things, sell them at low prices, and overall just make people happy with his works of personal art. 

  
  


Petunia had been skeptical at first, but they goblins assured her and Harry that the place was not haunted at all, but because people thought it was, it kept going down in price. Harry bought it for a whopping total of one hundred galleons, learning that it was indeed ridiculously cheap, but the goblins had been waiting to sell the ‘shrieking shack’, for years now. Harry would visit it when he was at school, and while it was under Petunia’s name as he needed a guardian, he had the rights to it. They were told that as he was the boy-who-lived, nonsense to them, he had privileges, including most bureaucrats turning their heads to such things. 

  
  


They had gone through the alley, getting a special trunk for all of Harry’s materials as well as his school supplies. Getting his wand had been… an interesting experience, but they thought it best to not think about it. Harry took to that quickly, instead thinking of the way wands were crafted, and wondering if he could do the same later in life. They went through the normal shopping experience otherwise, and Petunia insisted on getting an owl, for communication purposes. They finished their trip with a stop at the ice cream parlor, and even Petunia could enjoy some of the more savory, magnificent flavors. She would be bringing some to Vernon, as he had a bit of a sweet tooth.

  
  


~TC~

  
  


“What is it?” Harry asked, looking up at his aunt and uncle, and the… weird device on the table. 

  
  


“It’s a new thing, well not completely new, but it’s a lot smaller than it used to be.” Vernon started. “It’s called a cell phone, and it's for long distance calling and the like. I know that tech doesn’t work around… magic.” He said, getting better at saying the word, it was still a bit awkward though. “We figured, you could… I don’t know, fix it so it works?” He said with a smile. “To keep in touch.” He finished with a smile. 

  
“Oh, well, alright then!” Harry said, before he picked it up and to the horror of Vernon and Petunia, started to take it apart in front of their eyes. 

  
  


“Harry!” Petunia hissed softly, and Vernon’s mouth went agape. That was a three hundred quid phone he was taking apart, as if it was nothing. 

  
  


“Boy?” Vernon whispered, it was no longer a term of anger, but endearment, yet it called Harry’s attention still. “What… what are you doing?” He whispered, still speaking with a horror stricken tone. 

  
  


“Fixing it, uncle.” Harry said, innocently, going back to work on it without a care on the world. “It was too flimsy, and clumsy. I am making it sturdier, and have a better signal to work off of magic.” He said, and Petunia sighed, sitting down with a hand on her heart. “There!” He said, before dialing the number of the Dursley household, said phone ringing shortly after. “Knew it would work, so cool.” He said, before hanging up. 

  
  


“Well… ah, good work, Harry.” Vernon said, patting the lad on the shoulder, before sitting down himself. This boy was going to give them both grey hairs far too soon for their liking, but they wouldn’t have him any other way. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


September first came around, and Harry was both excited and… at the same time not. He wanted to stay with his family, but he knew this was part of his life now. He would keep in contact, that’s what the phone was for, but would still miss them. He made sure to test the phone out, and was glad that it worked in a magic rich environment like Diagon Alley, the real test would be Hogwarts, of course. He sat in his compartment, after a heartfelt goodbye to his family, and waited for the train to begin its journey, on a portable perch sat his own, Hedwig. 

  
  


The owl was brilliant with her white feathers, and glorious amber eyes that seemed to stare into your soul. He had created not only the perch for her, but a small crest that fit with a small harness around her. The crest was that of his family, and it was enchanted against greater elemental changes, as well as simple debilitating spells. He didn’t want her getting harmed, or anything. As he waited for the train to move along, he had begun to work on something, he always liked having his hands occupied, it felt right to him. 

  
  


Sooner rather than later, thankfully, the train was on it’s way. Hedwig was sitting stiffly, eyes closed as she was asleep, she was nocturnal after all. The compartment door opened and Harry raised his head, blinking softly at the new arrival. It was a redheaded child, with slightly tattered robes, a clearly secondhand trunk, and a slightly disgruntled look on his face. 

  
  


“Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is empty and downright lonely.” The boy said, and Harry gestured to the bench across from him. The trunk, with Harry’s help, was pushed into the proper spot and they both sat down again. “I’m Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley.” The boy, Ron, said, extending his hand. 

  
  


“Ah, Harry Potter, a pleasure.” Harry said, shaking the hand of the now gobsmacked boy, before letting go and going back to the leather bracelet he was making. 

  
  


“Blimey… you’re Harry Potter.” Ron said, and Harry looked up with a blink, nodding slowly. His fringe moved to the side by his own hand, showing the scar on his head, before he went back to his work. Ron blinked a few times, before he frowned ever so softly. “What are you doing, mate?” He asked, and Harry smile, oh he loved talking about his work!

  
  


“I am making a bracelet for my aunt, it will help her with carpal tunnel.” Harry said, before humming. “Well, so she doesn’t get it, that is.” He said, showing the boy just what he was doing. “See here? The runes help with the swelling of the nerve that causes it, I made sure to research it a bit.” He said, with a bright smile. “My aunt does love her gardening, and her cooking, don’t want to take any chances.” He said and then went back to working on the leather. 

  
  


“Blimey… runes? That is third year work, mate!” Ron said, in awe, before he scratched the back of his head. “I don’t even know any spells yet! Well, I got one… but my brothers gave it to me, don’t know if it works.” He said with a grumble. “Wanna see?” He asked, enthusiastically, and Harry nodded. He had not seen any spell-work yet, he was interested. 

  
  


“Alright, here we go!” Ron said, eager to show off a bit. He took out his pet rat, Scabbers he said, and cleared his throat after taking his wand out. “Eh… sorry, unicorn hair is a bit out. Belonged to my brother Charlie before me.” He cleared his throat again. “Sunshine, Daisy, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat, rat yellow!” He said, swishing and pointing to the rat, which squeaked softly, but otherwise did not change. 

  
  


“I think your brothers were having you on, mate.” Harry said with a frown, before he looked at the clearly unkempt wand. “Uh… I know it’s not really polite, but may I see your wand?” Harry asked, and Ron frowned softly in thought. It was pretty taboo, but this was Harry Potter asking. He shrugged and handed it over, and Harry looked it over lightly. “I promise I won’t break it.” He said, before he started looking it over.

  
  


“Hmm… Unicorn hair core, like you said… and ash as the base.” Harry mumbled, and Ron’s brow went into his hairline, he had not told Harry that. Harry held it with one hand, and then reached into his multi-pocketed robe (he spent a bit extra on that), taking out an odd little tool and started to work on the wand. Ron gasped softly as he watched the boy-who-lived  _ fix _ his wand, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. When Harry was done, it took no more than five minutes at the most, it was handed back to him. 

  
  


“There you go, good as new!” Harry said, smiling. The wand indeed was good as new, Harry had even taken out some wand polish and gave it a few passes with a cloth and the polish, after he cleaned it with something else. He made furniture with all kinds of wood, he knew what he needed with certain grains and the like. 

  
  


“You… you fixed my wand.” Ron said, in awe, looking at his wand and blinking in almost reverence at Harry. It even felt better connected to him, it was… it was amazing! 

  
  


“Well, yeah… I mean, it’s best to have a good wand.” Harry said, with another smile. “You’re going to be using it for the rest of your life, you know?” He said, and Ron nodded. Not even some of the stories about Harry mentioned him being able to fix wands, even the really crazy ones. 

  
  


“What… else can you do?” Ron asked, and at Harry’s little head tilt he went on asking questions. Did he really slay demons? Was his castle as large as Hogwarts? Did he know how to ride Dragons? The questions, each more ridiculous than the last caused Harry to laugh, but he didn’t mind talking and explaining to Ron, that no, he was not some kind of super wizard. He just… liked to make things, and he hoped Hogwarts would teach him more things to help towards that. 

  
  


They were interrupted, about an hour into the trip, by the soft rumbling of their bellies. They snickered softly, with bashful hues to their cheeks, before they took out prepared meals and ate. They traded sandwich halves, had a bit of candy from the trolley (Ron explained a lot of the weirder ones), and overall had an enjoyable first half of the ride. As the train huffed along, through a soft lull in conversation, though it was far from awkward in any sense, Harry got a call from his relatives. 

  
  


“The bloody hell is that?” Ron said, as the phone rang from Harry’s pocket. Harry blinked, having not been really paying attention until Ron said something. “Coming from your pocket, mate.” He said, and Harry took out the phone. 

  
  


“Oh! Give me a few minutes, mate.” Harry said, before opening the phone and putting it to his ear. “Hello?” He asked, and then smiled and started talking to his aunt who just wanted to make sure everything was alright. As he was on the phone, the compartment opened, and a girl with bushy hair and slightly bucked teeth peered in. 

  
  


“Excuse me, but ha-” She started, but paused at the sight before her. There was a boy, her age surely, on a cell phone… talking into it, and although she couldn’t hear the words clearly, there was someone on the other line talking back. She blinked softly… but… all the books said magic didn’t work with technology. She stepped inside and sat down, watching him intently, and when he was done with the call he hung up, blinking and looking at the newcomer. 

  
“Oh, hello. Sorry… I was on the phone with my aunt.” Harry said, and smiled at her. 

  
  


“How, though? We’re on a magic train, and… and that was a cell phone!” The girl exclaimed, and Harry shrugged. “Does that mean I could get one and have it work?” She mumbled to herself, and Harry thought for a moment. 

  
  


“I suppose you could get one, and I could fix it so it does work.” Harry said, showing her his phone. “It’s what I did with this one.” He explained, and then put it away. 

  
  


“That… that is brilliantly amazing.” Said girl whispered, before she stuck her hand out. “Hermione Granger.” She said, and he shook her hand with a bright smile. 

  
  


“I’m Harry, and that’s Ron.” Harry said. “Was there something you needed?” He asked, and she blinked before nodding with a slight embarrassed flush on her cheeks. She told them of a pet toad she was looking for, and though they did not see it they would keep an eye out. The two boys went the rest of the train ride either talking to each other, or enjoying a comfortable silence as they did their own thing. Just before they arrived Harry wrote a note, packaged his creation for his aunt, and sent it off with a now roused Hedwig. He knew his aunt would love it.

  
  


They got off of the train and made their way to the boats, while the older/returning, students went on the magically drawn carriages. They made the trip along the lake, with Harry glancing at the Gringotts ‘SOLD’ sign right in front of the ‘Shrieking Shack’, intent on taking a look at that later. When they got into the castle, after a rather breathtaking trip across the lake, Harry had the real test. He took out his phone and turned it on, only for it to slightly short out. He huffed softly, but smiled, he would fix that later. 

  
  


“Broke did it, mate?” Ron asked from his side, and Harry made a ‘so-so’ motion with his hand. 

“A little bit, yeah, but i’ll fix it later.” Harry said, and Ron nodded, just accepting it. Even only a few hours with this boy, and he knew that it was probably something he could do with no problem. The children were then treated to the spectacle of actual ghosts coming through the hall, making some of them gasp and scream before Prof. McGonagall came to collect them for the sorting. As they waited to be sorted, Harry got to work on fixing his phone. He could marvel at the great hall later, he would be eating his meals here for a good portion of his preteen and teenaged years. He hummed lightly as he sat on the floor, some students to be staring at him oddly, with Ron holding idle conversation with him. 

  
  


“Potter, Harry!” Prof. McGonagall called out, looking around for the boy. She started to lightly panic when she did not see him, until he stood up, quite obviously having been sitting on the floor. He tucked something into his robes and made his way to the stool, waving at her gently and then sitting down. McGonagall smiled lightly and then put the hat on his head, making him wriggle softly as his vision was obscured. 

  
  


It took the lesser part of five minutes, but soon the hat was yelling out it’s decision. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

  
  


Harry got off of the stool after the hat was removed from him, making him smile and then make his way towards the house of the badgers, sitting down to an exuberant round of applause, even from Ron. It took about another twenty minutes or so, but soon Ron was sorted into the house of Lions, his brothers clearly happy for this, clapping the loudest for their brother. Harry waved at him, and shortly after that the last child (Zabini, he was sure he heard), was sorted into Slytherin. 

  
  


The feast then properly started, everyone ravenous from the long journey, as sweets only went so far in terms of sustenance. Much to Harry’s delight, despite being prepared for it, his fellow housemates did not pester him about being who he was. The feast was magnificent, and if he had this kind of food to look forward to, he would be a very happy boy. 

  
  


The headmaster made some rather… off comments, but after that they were off to their new homes. To say that their rooms were cozy would be an understatement, it was like they were permanently wrapped up in a gentle, soothing hug. Harry spoke lightly with his new dorm mates, but after such a grand feast they were all tired. Sleep claimed them all, and Harry’s last thought was just how amazing all of this would be. 

  
~TC~

  
  
  


Harry woke bright and early, due to his slightly divine nature, he did not need much sleep. It had been growing more and more, and right now he only needed about six hours before he was completely rested. He made his way to the common room, it was chilly as it was still dark out, and the fires were not yet- and there it went. As soon as he got close enough, the fire sprung to life, and he smiled. That was clearly magic, and it was marvelous. He looked at his watch, an antique he found in a second hand shop, and noted it was about four in the morning. He shrugged and took out his phone again, spending the better part of two hours working on it. As he was putting it away, the sun was rising, and the common room was getting nice and warm. 

  
  


Harry stood and stretched, yawning only slightly, it was also about the time his fellow housemates would be getting up. He went back upstairs, to change into his uniform, before he made his way out of the tower. A few seventh years, up and yawning, blinked as they saw him leave. What in Merlin’s name was Potter doing up so early?

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Harry arrived in the great hall a little after seven thirty, he had wandered a bit, and was not ashamed to say he got a little lost, as well. He came over to his houses table and sat, smiling at his fellow housemates before he started to eat. He ate with one hand, while the other had a Biro as he wrote on a notebook. He was sketching a design for the interior of his new shop, as well as a sign. What would he call his place of work? That was going to be quite a task, of that he was sure. He smiled at the thought, he was up for the challenge, that was for sure. 

  
  


“Good Morning, Mr. Potter.” Said a voice from behind Harry, causing him to turn. It was his head of house, Professor Pomona Sprout, and she had a gentle smile on her face, as well as a piece of paper for him. It was his schedule, and he took it with a small ‘thank you.’ “I trust you slept well?” Prof. Sprout asked. 

  
  


“Yes professor, I did. Thank you for asking.” Harry said, putting his schedule away. “Did you?” He asked in return, causing her to smile and nod lightly. “I am glad to hear that, professor.” He said, before she went off to the next student. She did this, every year (he would learn), she liked to know the name of every one of her badgers. As she walked away, Harry went back to his breakfast, and then to his notebook. He had a few ideas, but he had some time before he could act them out. He wouldn’t mind waiting, he could do so many things before that. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


The first day of classes went well enough in Harry’s opinion, and he a whole font of new information to take in, and it was just going to get even better. Not many of the classes, however, piqued his  _ creative _ interest, at least… not until the next day. Potions. That drew the odd stares from his housemates, as it was well known that Prof. Snape was… well, a sour man. Harry was looking forward to creating something though, he couldn’t wait! 

He was one of the first to enter the classroom, and already he was at work. The burner at his table was a little out of whack, so he worked on that first, and the cauldron was a bit brittle, from years of use. He fixed the skewed runes that he saw, and undid bends in the metal that would mess with stirring and the like. When the professor entered, he didn’t even notice, until the man stopped in front of him, just as he was checking the burner again, the one that looked brand new. 

  
  


“Potter, what are you doing to my equipment?” Prof. Snape asked, a sneer on his lips as he almost snatched the item from the boys hand. He was about to give him a piece of his mind, when he saw that it was practically brand new. He put it down, then inspected the cauldron, which was just the same. “How did you do this, Potter?” He asked, surprise coloring his tone. 

  
  


“I’ve always been able to fix things, Professor Snape sir, it’s… always been like that.” Harry said, he was not a boy who lied, especially to someone like a professor. 

  
  


“I see.” Snape said, before turning abruptly. Harry had missed his opening speech, but he was paying attention now. “Instructions are on the board, you have ninety minutes. Begin.” He said, and Harry almost leaped up and started to take various ingredients out of his pockets in his custom robes. He made sure everything was what he needed, checking the board, before he started on his work. He had a look of pure concentration on his face, and then one of epiphany as he glanced at the board once more before his eyes switched again. 

  
  


It took Harry exactly seventy eight minutes to finish the potion, and he looked up pleased, but not smug. As he sat there, waiting, he occasionally would adjust the heat of the flame under the bubbling potion, so it wouldn’t overheat. At eighty eight minutes the professor came over, wand in hand as he was wondering why Potter was sitting there doing nothing for ten minutes. He was surprised at the perfect color, scent, and texture of the potion. Potter had brewed in perfectly, and that… for some reason, did not agitate him.

  
  


“Do you have a sample prepared for me, Potter?” Prof. Snape asked, and Harry nodded, giving him a vial with tiny, etched unbreakable runes on them. He hummed as he took the vial, and then put it in his own robes. “O for the day, Mr. Potter.” He said, before making a complicated motion with his wand, the rest of the potion being bottled up for later use. “You may pack up your things and go.” He said, starting to go around to the other students, marveling at the fact that Potter had made a  _ perfect _ potion. What was the world coming to. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Harry was enjoying school, that was for certain, for not the main reason one would enjoy it. Surely, he learned, and that was nice, but it got… boring to him. He made friends, and created potions a few times a week, but there was only so much you could do with the other subjects. He had finally managed to fix his phone, and he spoke to his aunt and uncle about it, and they could understand his issues. He was a unique child, even by wizarding standards. His desire to create, to mend, to mold, was making him restless. 

  
  


It got to the point where he actually broke curfew one morning, sneaking out of the tower, and then out of the castle. When he was found, around the start of breakfast, it was to an amazing sight. He was sitting down in the middle of two piles of brooms, with one in his lap that he was working on. On his left was a pile of the brooms that the school was ‘allowed’ to use, and on his right was the product of his wonderful gift. Madame Hooch picked up one of the renewed ones, and stroked it slowly and carefully. She came over to the headmaster, as well as Prof. Sprout, and spoke softly. 

  
  


“It’s brand new… good lord, i’d say even better.” Madame Hooch said, glancing at Harry, who had not even noticed he had an audience. 

  
  


“Truly, Rolanda?” Dumbledore asked, and at her nod he took it from her and inspected it himself. He was no broom maker, and would not say he knew of their process, but he trusted his flight instructor. Pomona was the first to act towards Harry, when she noticed he was lightly shivering, the blanket he had brought not cutting it as it had fallen off of his shoulders. With a few flicks of her wand the blanket was stuck to his shoulders, and had several warming charms on it. He mumbled a soft thank you, before he blinked and looked up. 

  
  


“Oh! Ah… good morning, professors.” Harry said, guilt in his tone, and a blush to his face. “I had hoped to finish before breakfast… but there were just so many of them.” He said, and Madame Hooch snorted before shaking her head. 

  
  


“Tilfer.” Prof. Sprout said, and second later a house elf appeared, before shuddering and covering herself in warming charms. “Mr. Potter here is missing breakfast, please rectify this.” His head of house said, before the house elf nodded and popped away. She returned not a minute later, with a nice hearty breakfast for a growing boy such as Harry. 

  
  


“I would have thought, Pomona, that we would have brought him inside.” Dumbledore said, as he watched Harry put the latest fixed broom to the side, before starting in on his meal. 

  
  


“Hmmm… perhaps after breakfast, Albus.” Prof. Sprout said, smiling at Harry. “He is not doing this for gain, nor is he breaking the rules to be malicious. He is… nurturing a gift, I am sure you can see that.” She said, and Dumbledore hummed, a soft frown on his face. Even as Harry ate, he did so one handed as his other was sketching in a notebook, the same book that never left his side. 

  
  


“Indeedly so, however, this cannot go unpu-” Dumbledore started, interrupted by Madame Hooch.

  
  


“I assure you, it  _ can _ , Albus!” Rolanda said, turning to Dumbledore and tugging him away, out of earshot of the young boy. “I have been begging you, and the board of governors, for nearly three decades, to fix those brooms. Or even get them refurbished!” She hissed, looking at the new pile. “And a boy, regardless that he is the Boy-who-lived, does so in a few hours. This will save not only me, but Poppy time.” She said, sighing lightly before looking at Dumbledore again. “I will discuss things with him, along with Pomona, no need to punish him for a gift.” She said, and Dumbledore frowned again, but nodded reluctantly. He hoped this didn’t become a habit, he did not need the boy with a big head, or ego, thinking he could just… get out of trouble. 

  
  


“Very well, Rolanda. I shall leave it to you and Pomona.” Dumbledore said, before turning to walk back to the castle, he had a lot to think about. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Over the year Harry made plans, plans in his notebook, and plans with his aunt and uncle. A school like Hogwarts, magnificent as it was, was just not right for Harry. He kept himself busy, fixing things, creating what he could… but he was getting restless more and more. It was because of this that a decision was made. He would not be returning to school the next year, but he would still be getting some kind of education. It was an amusing sight, one April afternoon, in Hogsmeade to see a team of goblins appear in the swirl of a portkey, and start to work on tearing down the Shrieking Shack. 

  
  


Goblins were nothing if not efficient, and it took the better part of two days, but they got it done. Soon there was a shop there, it had two floors like the shack had, but it was not as tall or robust. They put up a sign in front of it, but it was obscured by magic, and everything was locked up tight. Over the course of the next few weeks or so, a goblin or three could be seen walking into the front door, with boxes of something. It was the end of May when the sign's name was no longer obscured. 

  
  


**_The Builder’s Nook_ **

That was what the sign said, and it had a projected opening of the last week of June. Until then, goblins, and even the occasional witch or wizard, came and went from its doors. The people of Hogsmeade were interested, to say the least, and Hogwarts itself was all a flutter with rumors and the like. Something new had come to this little piece of the wizarding world, and it was drawing lots of attention. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


June 30th, 1992, dawned nice and bright on Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, though the latter was empty as school had let out. Not only that, but most of the faculty was out in Hogsmeade, as was a good sized crowd as well. The new shop,  _ The Builder’s Nook _ , was opening today, and they were all curious. Goblins rarely, if ever, were seen building in such a manner, and it was something so many were nosy about. A goblin wearing a fine suit appeared in the swirl of a portkey, and looked around the crowd, before clearing his throat and extending his voice in a goblin made  _ Sonorous _ charm. 

  
  


“Welcome all, to the opening of this new, grand shop. I am Ironclencher, and I have had the privilege to assist in this new shops construction.” Ironclencher said, making the crowd murmur in surprise. Goblins were rarely so… humble in such things, if ever. One person in the crowd, however stiffened just a bit. Dumbledore knew that name… it was the Potter account manager. 

  
  


“Let it be known, right here and now, that the maximum occupancy of this establishment is thirty witches or wizards.” The goblin said, glaring at anyone who would dare say otherwise. “The thirty first occupant will be removed, gently however, despite my best arguments.” He said, grumbling before snorting and nodding. He then stepped aside, snapping his fingers, the crowd hearing the door unlock. 

  
  


The first person in the shop, due to some quick maneuvering, which surprised quite a few, was Pomona Sprout. She gasped when she entered, taking in the sights around her. Every last thing she saw made her smile, and as she connected the clues in her head, all she could do was chuckle softly to herself. Baubles, jewelry, trinkets… everything you could think of, that could be created was in here. At least, that was of a decent size. Pomona made her way to the counter, ignoring the rest of the patrons, and hit the small bell on it. It rang pleasantly, and then from a door behind the counter came none other than Harry Potter himself, hands being wiped on a towel. His face had some dirt on it, and his hair was it’s normal birds nest. His workman's clothing was simple, and rather adorable on the not yet twelve year old boy. 

  
  


“So this is what you’ve gotten up to, Harry.” Pomona said, getting a soft blush from the child and a nod. “I like it… so very lovely. Truly, your gift will be nurtured here.” She said, and he nodded again. She plucked a dream-catcher from a nearby shelf, putting it on the counter and smiling brightly at him. “Allow me to be your first customer.” She said, and he wiped his hands again before looking at the dream-catcher, and speaking. 

  
  


“Three sickles please, Ms. Sprout.” Harry said, and at her soft blinking he shrugged. She did not protest, though, and handed over the silver coins. He put them away, and then took out a fountain pen. On the very edge of one of the beads on the trinket, he wrote his initials, giving her another smile. “I hope you never need that, and that your dreams are always vivid and wonderful.” He said, and she leaned over the counter and gave him a kiss on the forehead, which made him blush again. 

  
  


“Merlin’s Beard! It’s _Harry Potter!_ ” Exclaimed a patron that just noticed who Prof. Sprout was talking to, and Harry blinked as people all but rushed to get a look at the boy-who-lived. What they were not expecting, however, was the massive lion that appeared after a piece of paper was conjured. It let out an otherworldly roar, making people stumble back just as Minerva McGonagall stepped from the side. 

  
  


“What  _ madness _ is this!?” McGonagall all but bellowed, eyes furious at the magical persons in front of her. “You’re all adults, and guests in Mr. Potter’s fine establishment,  _ act like it! _ ” She hissed out those last three words, her glare so furious and stern it made most of the adults in front of her wither and shrink as if they were first years again. They all mumbled soft apologies, and then with sheepish glances they went back to admiring the store. 

  
  


“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said, smiling bashfully. He got a sharp nod in return, and then she placed a small, very intricate replica of a set of bagpipes on the counter. “Ah! Those took me quite a bit to get the sound right.” He said, and at her raised eyebrow of curiosity he gave the toy a squeeze. After said squeeze it played a traditional Scottish song, meant to be played on such an instrument. Well, it played some of it, before Harry squeezed it again. “You can turn it on and off like that, Professor.” He said before clearing his throat. “Ah, three sickles.” He said, and she nodded before putting the money on the counter. 

  
  


“I assume, Mr. Potter, that you shall not be neglecting your education?” Dumbledore asked, having finally made it to the counter. 

  
  


“Well, Sir, I will be coming over for potions class once a week.” Harry said, stroking his chin. “And I was going to ask you if I could attend meals, as I will not be a student anymore.” He said, and Dumbledore frowned slightly, shaking his head. 

  
  


“I am afraid I cannot allow you to abandon you educ-” Dumbledore started, before he was presented with papers from the boy. He read them over, eyebrows raising as he did so. He sighed again, looking at Harry with disappointment, before nodding. “Very well… if this is what you desire. Know however, that I advise against it.” The older man said, and Harry nodded. 

  
  


“Acknowledged, and appreciated Sir, but not necessary.” Harry said, taking the papers back. The forms made him an emancipated minor, and it had taken a bit of gold, and some of his celebrity status to get them. However, he was happy now… in his element, it was wonderful. The three professors wandered around a bit, before just… watching. They saw the runes, felt the magic of the goblins in the store, so they knew Harry was safe… but they still felt the need to watch him. 

  
  


Around six in the evening, Harry cleared his throat and pressed a rune on his counter, allowing his voice to carry. 

  
  


“I am grateful for everyone’s patronage, and excitement towards my new establishment, however it is time for me to close. I will be open again tomorrow at nine.” Harry said, and though there were a few who were upset at this, they understood he was a child and needed his sleep and nourishment. Eventually it was just Harry and the three professors, causing him to smile. “Might I join you professors for dinner at the castle?” He asked, and with a bright smile Pomona nodded, gesturing for him to come with them. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


Harry hummed a jaunty tune as he worked around his shop, fixing things here and there that customers inadvertently broke, or screwed with. His shop was always full, to the point he had to get a house elf or two to help him, and boy did they love that. He was going back to his counter when he heard his name from behind him, in silky smooth tones. 

  
“Well, well… Harry Potter.” Came the voice, causing Harry to turn. He saw a grown up version of Draco Malfoy, so he assumed it was his father. 

  
  


“Mr. Malfoy, I presume?” Harry asked, and the man nodded with a quirked brow. “Welcome, what can I do for you?” The boy asked, and the older man huffed softly before he presented his headless cane. 

  
  


“I have been told you do excellent repair work, and seeing as the man who created this is long dead, I am in need of your services.” Lucius said, and Harry nodded, taking the cane and then heading to his counter. He took out a tackle box, butterflying it open, before he went to work. 

  
  


“Hmm… not a bad piece of work, but it will need more and more repairs, sir.” Harry said, looking it over, humming in thought. “The wood used in its initial construction was rotten, but the runes carved into it held it together.” He said, more to himself, but loud enough for Lucius to hear, and to bristle in that knowledge. “I have some black beach wood, if you’d be interested in an entirely new cane, sir.” The boy said, looking up at the slightly perturbed, at least on the outside, man. 

  
  


“Are you telling me, Mr. Potter, that this cane, that has been in my family for several generations, is faulty?” Lucius asked, tone sharp and biting. Harry, seemingly unperturbed, nodded gently. With a snort of displeasure, Lucius nodded and spoke again. “Yes, I shall have a new cane then.” He said, and Harry smiled before nodding.

  
  


“Excellent, sir. Now, so that you are completely sure.” Harry said, calling an elf to get a block of the wood he would be using, before placing it on the counter. “You are free to inspect this, to make sure it is indeed whole and not tainted.” He said, and Lucius did just that, muttering a few spells before nodding in satisfaction. “It will take a day or so, sir, I trust that is fine?” He asked, and at the nod from the man he smiled and returned the previous cane. 

  
  


“No, keep it… Mr. Potter, I have no use for it.” Lucius said, before nodding again, and leaving with his eyes cold and agitated. If that man had been alive today, he would have felt the fury of the Malfoy family. 

  
  


Lucius arrived, as he had been told, exactly a day later. He expected perfection, and even if he was the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter would get no special treatment from him. He entered the shop, and there were a few people around, as there had been the day before, and he was only slightly disgusted that  _ anyone _ was allowed into this shop. From the wealthiest patrons, to even  _ squibs _ , distasteful to say the least. He made his way to the counter, and saw a long, black cane waiting there. It was nearly identical to his previous one, but he could tell the difference, that was for sure. It had more intricate runes drawn on it, and the sheen on the cane was a more pronounced. The silver was not sparkling, but it was not dull either, it was perfect. Harry came up to the counter, putting his pocket watch away, and smiling up at the older male. 

  
  


“Right on time, Sir.” Harry said, before he picked up the cane. “I made sure to carve out the receptacle for your focus, sir, with extra charms laid in to prevent harm to it.” He said, before presenting it to the older man. Lucius took it, noting how light, yet strong it felt, and inspected it. He hummed in appreciation, before he took off the head of the cane, and slid his wand into the new holster. It ~clicked~ into place, and at his raised brow Harry spoke. 

  
  


“It can only be removed by you, sir, or by extreme force.” Harry said, and at the nod from the man, he smiled. The came was perfect, and Lucius was prepared to pay for it. He removed his gold pouch, just as Harry started to punch a few numbers into the mechanical calculator, with a similar printer attached. It was a bit loud, but it got the job done, and he liked the rustic feeling of it. A receipt was produced, and Harry looked it over, humming a bit before looking up. 

  
  


“That will be ten galleons, please.” Harry said, to the surprise of the man in front of him. The older cane, some three hundred years ago, cost nearly ten times that much. “Yes, sir, I am completely serious and in my right state of mind.” He said, giggling softly at the look from the man. 

  
  


“I see you have had that question asked of you before then, Mr. Potter?” Lucius drawled, and at Harry’s nod he hummed and produced the coinage. Ten gold galleons laid on the counter, to be swept away by the child’s hands and into Merlin knows where. “Do you construct gowns of any form, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked, leaning lightly on his new cane. 

  
  


“Oh yes, I would just need measurements, of course, sir.” Harry said, and Lucius nodded, thanking the boy, before he was on his way. Perhaps his lovely wife would enjoy a new, silk dress. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


The time that would have been Harry’s second year was spent doing what he loved, with the occasional potions class, the only incident of note was when the DADA professor of that year, Gilderoy Lockhart, came in on a Hogsmeade weekend. He was tinkering on a accidentally snapped bauble, when he was wrenched from doing so by his shoulder. 

“Harry Potter! Finally, we have a chance to meet.” Lockhart said, grinning brightly at the boy, who was shocked to say the least. He moved his shoulder from the man’s grasp, before looking up and speaking. 

  
  


“Can I help you, sir?” Harry asked, glancing back to his hands as they were still working on the bauble. 

  
  


“Well, I just think this is a momentous occasion, too titans of fame clashing.” Lockhart said, smile literally glinting when he smiled. “A shame I was unable to teach you this year, I know just how much I could have taught you.” He said, and by this time there was a small crowd forming, murmurs starting as well. 

  
  


“Well, I had things to work on, of course.” Harry said, before he put the bauble on the shelf. “If you need any assistance, do let me know.” He said, before he politely, though casually, dismissed the man. Lockhart blinked softly, this was not how it was suppose to go. Did Harry Potter now know anything of him, Gilderoy Lockhart? 

  
  


“Everything you have around here is fantastic, truly.” Lockhart said, following the boy, and he was surprised when he was magically held back before he was able to follow him behind the counter. “Perhaps, though, you’d like a partner in all of this? I think I could assist you with some of these enchantments of yours.” He said, that smile lighting up his face again. 

  
  


“No thank you, sir. I have all the help I need.” Harry said, before he went to work on his latest project. “As I said, if you need help with anything, let me know.” He said, before dismissing the man… again. Lockhart frowned, before he turned and left, mumbling to himself. The boy didn’t understand, but he was sure he would in due time. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


It was August, about towards the start of September of what would have been his third year, when it got almost impossibly cold in the town of Hogsmeade, and the Minister for Magic himself came into the shop. Harry grumbled softly about stupid weather changes, and activated the warming runes for his shop. He wiped his hand on his ever present, self cleaning, rag and shook the minister’s hand. He was getting taller and more built, he was a growing boy after all, and he looked more like a fourth year than a potential third.

  
  


“Hello Minister, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Harry asked, smiling brightly. 

“I am afraid, my good lad, that you are going to have to be at the school this year.” Minister Fudge said, honestly contrite. 

  
  


“Why is that, Minister?” Harry asked, tilting his head softly to the side. 

  
  


“Well… ah, for… secur-” The minister started, but was interrupted by newly un-retired Senior Auror ‘Mad-eye’ Moody. 

  
  


“Nasty killer, goes by the name of Sirius Black, broke out of Azkaban.” Moody started, drinking from his hip flask, his magical eye going nuts in this store. “Helped send you-know-who to kill your parents, boy.” He said, grunting and growling. “I taught him myself, felt damned shamed when he turned traitor.” He finished, and Harry hummed in thought before he pressed a rune under his desk. 

“Auror Moody!” Fudge said, flustered. “There is no need to scare the boy like that!” He said through several stutters, hat in his hand, being lightly rung within said hands. 

  
“Auror Moody was it?” Harry asked, and at the affirmative nod, he spoke. “If you would be so kind as to assist me in a demonstration?” He asked, coming from behind his counter, hands behind his back. Moody nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in confusion. “I want to demonstrate to the minister that I am safe in my shop, and I have no plan on leaving it except through the floo.” He said, smiling softly. 

  
  


“How can I assist with that, Lad?” Moody asked, magical eye now latching on to different things, something had shifted in the store. 

  
  


“Curse me, sir. Nothing overly lethal, but something a mass killer would use.” Harry said, and Moody snorted softly, he could tell where this was going. With a flick of his wrist his wand was in his hand, and then a cutting curse was sent to Harry. Before it even made it a foot from him, it vanished, turned into a soft red mist that went harmlessly around the teenager. Immediately after there were four goblin statues, each with a blade made of mythril, disarming and detaining the Auror.

  
  


“HAHA! That’s damned good, lad.” Moody said, the goblin’s moving with a gesture from Harry, vanishing after giving the man his wand back. “Constant Vigilance!” He all but bellowed, getting a small smile from the young man. “Minister, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” He said, before turning back to Harry. “Be wary though, lad, we’ll be having dementors around here… looking for the traitor.” He said, and Harry nodded, already thinking of something for that. 

“I will do so, Auror Moody.” Harry said, before turning to the minister. “I thank you, sir, for your time and concern. I will be fine, I am sure.” He said, and he was not arrogant, but firm in his belief. There was little the Minister could do, so instead he picked up a bauble for his wife, paid for it, and was then on his way with his Auror contingent. They left Harry, and he immediately went to his research books, to find some way around the dementors, the creatures that he knew were bad news, to say the least.

  
~TC~

  
  


While he was not technically a student anymore, it did not mean he did not learn and research where he could. It helped him create a more vast array of trinkets, baubles, and other things. He had learned about the dementors when he was researching colors, and different types of fabrics. He didn’t know how he went from fabrics to dementors, but he absorbed what he could. He was visiting the school again, for his weekly potions lesson, when he had an idea. After the class, he approached Prof. Snape and waited to be acknowledged. 

  
  


“Yes, Mr. Potter?” Prof. Snape said, with his normal silky drawl. 

  
  


“I was wondering, sir, do you know how to cast a patronus?” Harry asked, and at the professor's raised brow he went on. “I know there are dementors around the school, and close to Hogsmeade, I wanted to try and make something that replicated the patronus effect.” He said, and Snape hummed before his wand was out, and he spoke the incantation. 

  
  


A silver mist exited his wand, and then coalesced into that of a prancing doe, and Harry was immediately drawn to it. The patronus came up to the young boy, and he caressed it’s head, as if it was corporeal. Harry sighed and smiled softly, it was warm, it exuded a feeling of safety and protection. He understood why it was good against the vile dementors. It dissipated after a few moments, and Harry turned to the slightly stunned potions master. 

  
  


“Thank you, sir. I think I will be able to figure something out.” Harry said, but before he could leave Snape spoke. 

  
“Could you touch it, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, and Harry nodded softly. “You are indeed unique, Mr. Potter. You may go.” He said, and Harry nodded, once more thanking the man before leaving. It was unheard of for such a thing, then again, it was unheard of for many things regarding Lily’s boy.

  
  


~TC~

  
  


_ ‘Potter’s Patronus Pieces’ _

  
That was what his latest creations were called, not something he coined, but the papers always made their own nicknames and the like. Harry could understand, honestly. It had alliteration, and people loved that, as well as the fact that he could make most anything into one of the patronus emitters. He had made rings, necklaces, earrings, even little key chains and the like. It did not have the power of a true patronus, but the despair and dread when around a dementor was lessened enough so that no-one was a terrible wreck. 

  
  


He had made a good dozen, at first, but was then surprised at the sheer demand for them, once word got out. Apparently the patronus was no easy feat of magic, and most adult wizards could not perform it. Harry didn’t mind though, if his creations could help, then so be it. At the peak of his work, he was making about ten a day, with other things thrown in of course. He did not want to stop creating just because one thing was more in demand than another. He was surprised, however, on Halloween day, when Prof. Snape entered his shop, eyes darting around. 

  
  


“Have you had any… untoward visitors today, Mr. Potter?” Severus asked, wand in his hand, at the ready. 

  
  


“Not that I recall sir, that is unless you count the rather bothersome Ravenclaw sixth years.” Harry said, wriggling his nose softly. That pack of students had been boisterous, and rude to his elves. They were kicked out, almost literally, very quickly. He did not tolerate that, not to his elves. 

  
  


“I see… well, I know you prefer it here, but the Headmaster has once again offered sanctuary at the castle.” Snape said, wand vanishing. “It seems Sirius Black was spotted in the castle, around the dorms he no doubt suspects you to be in.” He said, a sneer on his face, though it was not directed at Harry. 

  
  


“Ah… um, tell the headmaster I said no thank you, of course.” Harry said, smiling softly, before continuing. “Oh! I made this for you, sir.” He said, before getting the necklace for the older man. It was made of mythril, and it was one of his better Patronus pieces. It held more power than the average one, mostly because it channeled the magic of the wearer, without being overly taxing. It was fashioned to that of a doe.

  
  


“Thank you… Mr. Potter.” Severus said, after a few moments, putting it on shortly afterwards. “I will wear it with me always, especially as of late.” He said, before giving a soft nod and bow to the boy and leaving. His cloak billowing softly behind him as he left, and then Harry beamed before going back to work. 

  
  


~TC~

  
  


The door chimed early one day, late in November, and Harry blinked as he looked up. He saw no-one in the shop, and that made him frown softly. He then felt a nudge to his side, and looked down, seeing a rather scraggly and under-fed dog at his feet. 

  
  


“Oh goodness… you poor, poor thing.” Harry said, kneeling and running his hands over the dog’s mangy fur and head. “You’re so cold, and you look so sick!” He said, and the dog whimpered softly, tail slowly wagging, mostly due to exhaustion. “Come with me, boy, let's get you fed and cleaned up.” He said, before taking the dog to the back, his elves knowing to ‘hold down the fort’, as it was. 

  
  


While he was no Hagrid, Harry had a love for most animals, and this dog was no exception. It took a few hours, he had to shave a bit from the dog, but soon he was looking at a German Sheepdog (he had looked it up), and it was rather happy. It barked softly, before nuzzling Harry softly, especially after a proper, though not overly large, meal. 

  
  


“Going to have to look around, see if you have an owner.” Harry said, before getting up to wash his hands and dry his shirt. He turned back, and there was a startled yelp when he saw not a dog, but a man in front of him. The man had a slight smile on his face, but he was sitting patiently, not even flinching at the blades held to his neck from the activated statues.

  
  


“So good to see you doing so well for yourself, Harry.” The man, who Harry now saw was Sirius Black, said. His smile still there, and Harry felt his tail would be wagging if he was still in dog form. “I must say, I was confused when you weren’t at the castle, but some poking around, a little eavesdropping and I learned what I needed to.” He said, and Harry saw he was not moving, still smiling ever so softly.

  
  


“Are you here to kill me, Mr. Black?” Harry asked, after what seemed like hours. Sirius scoffed with a soft shake of his head, not moving to much as the blades were very close. 

  
  


“Not at all!” Sirius said, smiling again, a little deranged, but not overly so. “I am here to make sure my godson is safe, but I shouldn’t have been too worried it seems.” He said, before continuing. “You see, I came to Hogwarts to avenge your parents, get the man actually responsible for their deaths.” He said, and his eyes narrowed slightly, actually growling. 

  
  


“And who is that, Mr. Black?” Harry asked, raising a hand softly, the defensive statues moving back just a bit, but still between him and the escaped convict. 

  
  


“Peter Pettigrew, posing as a rat, his animagus form.” Sirius said, and at the quizzical look from the younger male, he started to tell him all about the group he and his father had been a part of in their Hogwarts years. It took a few hours, Harry even had some elves bring in food and drink, but the younger male seemed to take it all in stride. He got up, they had been sitting for a while, before he spoke. 

  
  


“I think, Sirius.” Harry started, Sirius having insisted he be called by his first name. “That I should contact Mr. Moody. He seems like the right man for the job.” He said, and Sirius nodded softly, still sitting down, cross legged, but in some less ragged clothing courtesy of Harry. 

  
  


“Do what you feel you must, Harry.” Sirius said, tone soft, almost wistful. “You’re so much different than your parents, well… you have your mother’s kindness, but… you’re you. I like that.” He said, and Harry smiled before going to make a very important floo call. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And that’s where the Muse left me. It took me long enough to get this far, If I am to be completely honest. Either way, I hope someone can enjoy it. As always, read and review, please. 


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